Eyjafjallajökull
by McVitie
Summary: Iceland is in a meeting in Stockholm and he's got a really high fever. It's not his week, and now he's coughing up smoke. Wait, what? (Rated T because of Romano in later chapters and I'm paranoid. Better inside, I can't summarize OTL )
1. It's definitely not the flu

_Early April, 2010, the Conference Room in Stockholm, Sweden._

Iceland surveyed the chaos around him, sighing. He was trying desperately to block out all the noise in the room – it was ridiculously noisy and he was sick. America was talking really loudly with Denmark next to him, and it was hurting his head.

Everyone else was arguing too, though Iceland had forgotten why. Italy had probably said something offensive by accident, or France had groped someone. Probably England or Spain, they had nice asses.

Iceland snapped his violet-blue eyes shut, his face contorted in a frown. His boss had made him come here, even though he had a high fever and he felt like death.

He pressed a hand to his forehead, wincing a little at the sudden coldness on his forehead. Ugh, and he still had 3 hours left of this stupid, stupid conference. He began to mutter a string of Icelandic curse words under his breath, panting slightly. Why did his lungs feel so constricted?

Across the room Norway glanced at him, giving Romania a casual, friendly fist in the face. Iceland hadn't been well lately, and Norway just wanted to take him home. He looked as though he was suffering from all the noise, and Germany's yelling definitely wasn't helping, nor was it making the other countries "SIT DOWN UND SHUT UP, DUMMKOPFS!"

Norway sighed; he'd have to do it himself. He stood up quietly.

"That's quite enough of that. Be quiet, we need to start." Norway said calmly, raising his voice just loud enough so everyone could hear him. Everyone was very surprised at this quiet, stoic nation speaking up, and decided not to mess with him. The Nordic looked over at his little brother just in time to see him mouthing out a thanks, before scrunching up in a ball on his chair and burying his face in his knees.

"Now, let's start with England's speech. Takk." he said. He grabbed Denmark's ear and hauled him out of his seat and sat down next to Iceland, allowing England to start his speech.

Iceland was in total agony. He whimpered a little as a stab of pain raced through the entire left side of his head. He didn't want to look up into the brightly lit conference room. It hurt his eyes and made him want to puke. He could feel his stomach churning a little as it was.

He brought his knees down a little bit so as he could rub his aching stomach.

"Fjandinn! Þetta er svo sársaukafullt. Blóðugur skít!" he whispered under his breath, cracking open one eyelid. Norway was surveying him with a look of concern, and Liechtenstein, Hong Kong and Switzerland who were seated near him were giving him funny looks.

"Hvað, Bjóstu eitthvað?" he snapped. Norway rolled his eyes. Looks like Iceland would be fine.

The white-haired nation leaned forward and removed his brown jacket, slinging it over the back of his chair. Hong Kong gave him another weird look from the seat next to him.

"Like, what are you doing, Ice?" he asked.

"What? It's really hot in here!" Iceland moaned, taking off his scarf. He also unbuttoned the top button of his white shirt. Liechtenstein blushed, but Iceland didn't take any notice.

"Ice, it's snowing outside." Hong said. "And this room's heating has gone on the fritz. It's like freezing." he whispered. Iceland frowned.

"It's not."

"Look around Iceland. What's up with you?" he asked, slightly concerned.

Iceland used his right eye – the one that didn't feel as if it was being stabbed out of his skull with a lump of hot granite – to survey the room. Most of the nations were arguing again, but he noticed they were all bundled up. None of them had taken off their coats upon entering the room and the umbrellas the UK brothers brought with them were leaning against the wall, covered in melting snow.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn't even felt the snow against his skin. The only nations not shivering right now were Canada and Russia, who were used to it. Iceland frowned, but dismissed it.

"I've got a fever, Hong." he said. He settled back into his chair, balling himself up again and ignoring Denmark's speech that was starting. This would be boring, not to mention stupid.

He rubbed his sore eyes and hot forehead, feeling sorry for himself. Hong Kong rolled his eyes.

* * *

"And so, that's why I think that pineapples should be illegal!" Denmark yelled excitedly. Iceland winced at the loud noise, rubbing his ears. "And so, onto my next point- Iceland?" he asked loudly, instantly drawing everyone's attention to the white-haired nations.

"Were you even paying attention bro?" he asked grumpily.

"Sorry, Denmark. It's just really hot in here." he sighed, eyebrows knitted together in a scowl again.

"No it's not. It's really ball-shrivellingly cold today. Even for Sweden." Denmark said. "Have you gone insane?"

"What? Hong Kong already said the same thing! And- ow. And Liechtenstein keeps looking at me funny." Iceland whined. He wasn't in the mood. Norway frowned again.

"What hurts, brother? Why did you say ow?" he asked.

"Nothing, it's just- _**skíta!**_" he yelled, springing out of his seat and clutching his stomach and wheezing a little. Germany sighed, irritated that the speech was being interrupted, even if it was pointless rubbish. This was probably the best meeting they'd ever had! France and England weren't even _glaring _at each other! This could not be interrupted. He pressed Iceland back into his seat, telling him quietly to stop causing drama. Iceland glared, but obeyed his command.

"Anyway, the next thing I was going to talk about is how lemons are evil, because lemons are pineapples..." Denmark began. Iceland glared around the room at those who were still staring at him and curled back into a ball.

His stomach gave a lurch and he clamped his hands over his mouth, ignoring the funny look Hong Kong gave him.

* * *

God damn it, this meeting was taking so long. Iceland was getting more attention than he usually did because he kept coughing. And apparently the edges of his clothes were singed or something. Not like he cared, he was just trying not to explode on someone. Prussia was poking him repeatedly in his shoulder and Norway was chanting "Onii-chan, onii-chan, onii-chan!" and smirking in an irritating fashion. Norway only ever made facial expressions to Iceland.

Iceland sighed and punched him weakly. He buried his head in his knees and a couple of tears squeezed out of his tightly shut eyes. He allowed himself to release a quiet sob of pain, but Hong Kong looked over. Iceland quickly changed it into a cough. Hong Kong thumped him on the back and Iceland's fake cough became a real fit of hacking death and phelgm.

Okay maybe he was exaggerating, but Iceland couldn't stop now. He was too busy trying to inhale to notice the thick, black ash and smoke pouring from his mouth as he coughed.

* * *

**(A/N) Okay this is going to a be a story I only update when I feel like it xD**

**I decided out of the blue one day, when (probably) listening to a Eurovision song, that I would write a fanfic about Iceland. You can probably guess what's happening to Iceland right now but if you can't I'm not telling you xD**

**It's SO hard to copy and paste this chapter in, because my mouse decided to pack up, so I'm having to use my drawing tablet to actually use my computer. **

**This chapter was cut in half because it sucked :P the first half was okay but I removed the second half, re-wrote it and kept the cut off bit. That's all ramble though. **

**Also if the spacing/page breaks are awkward I apologise, I can't change it much because of my mouse xD**


	2. Ash

Liechtenstein had spent most of the meeting doodling bunnies on her paper. Not many of the things being discussed today particularly affected a small neutral country such as herself. Mostly the meeting was about America's economy, debts and recent elections (he was still acting very bipolar) and Denmark trying to convince everyone to ban pineapples. This didn't go down well with Thailand and an argument broke out. There was no clear winner and Thailand made a comment about Denmark having stolen his hairstyle.

It was boring.

She occasionally cast a glance at Iceland, but he had scrunched himself up into a ball and was hiding from the light like a vampire. He had mentioned having a fever for the last week or so and was feeling pretty rubbish. (Iceland had used a stronger word but Lilli wasn't prepared to repeat that.)

Lilli twiddled her bow around her fingers and peered at Iceland. To tell the truth she found him to be very sweet and kind, though Bruder didn't like it when she went to see him. He said she was too friendly with him, whatever that meant.

Iceland didn't look well right now, and he was coughing really, really hard. Liechtenstein silently shuffled her chair over a little.

"Hong?" she whispered into his ear. Hong Kong turned to her, shooting her a questioning look.

"Is Iceland okay?" she asked him. Hong gave Iceland a few hard thumps on the back.

"Uh... no, don't think so."

"Oh dear."

* * *

Iceland growled at Hong Kong as he felt a few hard blows to his back. Nobody was really paying attention to him and his lungs were forcing up ash for God's sake. Even Norway was doing something else, although it was punching Denmark in the face so that's a good cause, he supposed.

Still, this was excruciatingly painful_. _The hot ash and smoke burned his throat and mouth and he kept choking on it which caused him to cough more.

It was so painful, like a fire burning inside his lungs. Iceland wasn't crying, of course not! He wouldn't do that! He's not a baby!

Okay maybe he was crying a little.

However much he tried to deny it, it certainly got him noticed. Heads turned from around the room as Iceland pulled his hands away from his mouth for a moment, and all the soot caught in his hands blew onto the table. Liechtenstein screamed, leaping out of her chair and thumping his back weakly.

"Waahh! Germany, do you think Iceland is being bombed? What's going on? Is he okay?"

"Bloody hell! France, control yourself for a second, what the bloody hell is going on?"

"**Dude! **That's not cool! It must hurt!"

"'E doesn't look well. No l'amour for you~"

Romano sighed and whacked them all.

"It's something happening to-a his island, bastards." he snapped. Everyone stared. "What, I can't be smart too? Well Liechtenstein has the right idea, we have to end the damn conference and help him! Brother bastard, stay calm and stop panicking, he's going to be-a fine!" he yelled, walking right over the top of the table and running to Iceland, curl twitching in agitation. He pressed the back of his hand against Iceland's forehead, and drew it back almost immediately.

"Ow! Bastard's hot!"

"No shit, Romano," Iceland coughed, hacking up blood. Italy at this point ran out of the room in hysterics, dragging Canada's bear Kumajirou with him. Liechtenstein screamed again and stole Norway's hat, holding it under Iceland's mouth. At this point Norway noticed something was wrong, and began screaming at people in Norwegian.

"So he is capable of emotion!" America exclaimed, pointing a finger in the air. England smacked him upside the head.

"Not the time, wanker. Has anyone received a message from their boss yet?" he asked. Everyone pulled out their phones, trying and failing to remain calm.

"I get messages from Iceland's boss." Finland suddenly piped up. Norway shot him a weird look but continued his comforting Iceland.

"Yeah, he says... let me get out my phone!" Finland said happily, pulling out his Nokia. He waited a few seconds, when his message tone rang out. He read it and threw his Nokia threw at a wall, creating a small, Nokia sized hole where the phone went through.

"Hurry up, Finland!" Iceland wheezed, muttering a string of curses. This was starting to feel awfully familiar.

"Eyjafjallajökul erupted." he said.

Iceland opened his mouth to swear loudly, but no words came out. Instead, he started heaving, eyes wide. A fountain of hot, hot blood and ash poured from his mouth and he fell into Liechtenstein's lap unconscious.

* * *

**(A/N)**

**VOLCANOES BEOTCHES.**

**Though that was probably obvious. It's called Eyjafjallajokul.**

**Damn umlauts xD**

**I've got a lot more inspiration for this than my other story, Paradise. But I'm writing this from my mum's experiences getting stuck in Sweden. She was visiting when the volcano erupted, but that's another story for another time. It's going to be told to you in this story so if I told you now it'd be spoilers! :D**

**Ok. Well, short chapter. Next one will hopefully be up on Wednesday, I'm hell busy lately. That's not a real phrase. I need sleep.**


	3. It Smells Like Smoke

Everyone had fallen silent as Iceland collapsed into Liechtenstein's lap. They all seemed to be scared to move, and Finland was swearing in a corner. He had shattered a couple of chairs against the wall.

"This is bad!" he yelled. "Su-san, find a place to take him for God's sake!" Finland screeched. He hurried over to Liechtenstein, who was sobbing uncontrollably and mumbling in German, and grabbed Iceland. The normally bubbly Finn was clearly distressed, and dragged Iceland onto the table, pushing his little white hat under Iceland's head as a pillow. His eyes flickered around under his eyelids and he rolled onto his side, curling up in pain. Smoke and ash billowed from his mouth and his pale hair seemed to shine with a reddish glow, like heated iron. Norway took a few slow steps towards his little brother, placing a hand on his forehead and stroking his hair gently, trying to comfort him. He winced at the heat Iceland was giving off. If Iceland was a human, he'd likely be dead.

"Is Iceland going to be ok, Bruder?" Liechtenstein whimpered, clinging to Switzerland's sleeve. He frowned but nodded. Liechtenstein seemed to like Iceland, a little more than he wanted her to. But that was really not relevant right now.

"Sn'wst'rms 're m'ssing th'ngs 'p" Sweden grunted.

"Perkele!"

"Yo, dudes, we can totally do First-Aid on him and stop him coughing up ash." America said thoughtfully. England loked amazed at him actually saying something rational but chose not to comment. Instead, he replied,

"I doubt it'll do anything since it's his land that's causing this, but maybe it'll stop him choking."

England soon appeared next to Iceland, and pushed the young nation into the recovery position.

"You have no idea vhat you are doing, do you?" Germany sighed from the corner. England shook his head and wiped ash away from Iceland's mouth with a tissue and gave the packet to Norway.

"Vell you know more than I do. But right now ve need to know vhere ve are going to take him." Germany said in an official voice.

"We should leave him here!" Norway hissed, now sat on the table. Iceland had regained consciousness for a few moments and was lying across Norway's lap. He had coughed up more blood and ash before passing out.

"I agree with 'im," Scotland called from the corner. "Movin' 'im is nae gonnae do any good. We'll leave the wee bairn 'ere until tomorrow when we 'ave t'let the ordinary people in fer their conferences." he said, moving closer to England and ruffling his messy blonde hair. England scowled and tried to flatten his already unruly hair.

"Get off, you idiot. But your idea does make sense." he admitted.

"It smells like smoke in here too." Scotland commented. Wales and Northern Ireland murmured in agreement.

"Well Iceland did just cough up a few tons of it dude," America yelled from the doorway where he was dragging Italy back in.

As Scotland and Germany began to clear the ash and blood out of the blue carpet, Norway took a few moments to survey the meeting room. The nations had divided themselves into their usual groups – the Asians conversing in one corner, Romano, Spain and Belgium in another, the Nordics trying to calm down Finland, and everyone was mashed together in random clumps. Gathered around the table were the few nations who had actually decided to do something productive and help his lillebror – Germany, England, Scotland and Liechtenstein. Liechtenstein caught his eye and jumped away from her startled brother.

"Will he be okay? Iceland's not going to die, ja?" she asked timidly.

"He's not going to die Lilli, he's a nation. He'll be fine once he's conscious." Norway said. His face remained a deadpan but in his head he was screaming at her to leave him alone. He did appreciate her concern though – in his eyes she was the only one panicking enough.

* * *

After a few hours had passed in a similar fashion to this, - coughing, panicking, yelling, and trying to restore some form of order – Prussia called out from a corner that he was bored.

"What are you suggesting we do? We can't exactly go out and play football!" Korea said.

"Yeah, and those guys over there are still freaked out over life." Denmark shouted, disappearing round a corner to the bathroom.

"It really does stink o' smoke..." Scotland whined, covering his nose a little.

"Vell it's still boring. I think ve should sing." Prussia said, rolling onto his back.

"What are we going to sing?" England grumbled. France had been messing with his hair for the last 20 minutes and it hadn't wanted to go back, and now he was stuck looking like a punk. The Frenchman had also exposed the multiple ear piercings he had been trying to keep quiet and was proceeding to piss off England by kissing his cheeks.

"Years ago, when I was younger..." Norway mumbled. Denmark gave him the thumbs up and indicated for him to speak up.

"I kind of liked a girl I knew," he sang, a little louder. A couple of heads turned towards him.

"She was mine, and we were sweethearts,

That was then, but then it's true..."

Denmark took his opportunity to join in here, and dragged Finland along with him too.

"I'm in love, with a fairytale!  
Even though it hurts!

Because I don't care if I lose my mind,

I'm already cursed!"

A couple of the European nations grinned and began singing along, and by the third verse they had most of Asia singing too, until Sweden suddenly burst in with Germany. They had gone out a while ago to find a place for everyone to stay overnight, as nobody was flying home until tomorrow.

"Ve have found a place to stay, but zere's a lot of snow on ze ground. Vatch out, it's slippery." Germany announced.

"C'me 'n. G't yer b'gs." Sweden said. He beckoned to Finland and the small man moved over.

"M'w'fe. W've g't t' w'ke up Icel'nd."

"Are you sure we can, Su-san?" he asked anxiously. Sweden nodded, putting his arm aroun Finland's waist. He blushed and shrugged him off, hurrying over to Norway and Iceland.

"Don't wake him up." Norway growled in a low voice.

"B-but how do we move him?" Finland squeaked, frightened.

"Someone take my bags and Iceland's bags, I'll carry him." Norway hissed.

"It's quite a long vay, Norwegen." Germany put in, concerned.

"I'm going to carry him there. Takk." the stoic nation said with an air of finality. He lifted his brother's head gently out of his lap and stood up, scooping him up. He lifted Iceland off the table, making small circling motions with his thumb on Iceland's arm, making sure not to move his fingers too much and risk dropping him.

"Where is this place we are staying?" he asked, his straight face returning. Germany led the way silently, a few other nations trailing after them.

* * *

**(A/N)**

**Thank you to Hatsu Yukiya for reminding me about this xD I couldn't remember which story I was supposed to write by Wednesday so I wrote half a chapter for Paradise by mistake. Oopsie!**

**So this was a little rushed but I hope it's ok xD**

**Also a massive thank you for you awesome drawing of Iceland! It feels weird calling it fanart. You're awesome.**

**Everyone go read Hatsu Yukiya's stories if you don't already know her. If you don't you're really missing out.**

**Anywho~**

**For those of you who are detecting IceLiech: YES. That is all.**

**And to the guest reviewer who said something about having to half America vomit oil due to the timeline I am using, I know nothing about that xD All the newspapers and tabloids were going insane about the volcano and basically if your country wasn't in Northern Europe it didn't exist, haha!**

**This is a long Author's Note and there was something else I wanted to say but I don't remember it, so:**

**EUROVISION. I AM EXCITED FOR IT ALREADY. IF YOU CAN'T TELL.**

**Oh and PonPonPon. That song is addictive. Next chapter up possibly late on Friday, or at a random time on Saturday. **


	4. Rødgrød med fløde

Norway trudged through the snow gloomily, scowling at the crystalline forms drifting in front of his face. It had been about two or three days since the volcano had erupted and Iceland wasn't exactly getting any better. Flights had been cancelled so most of Europe and North America was stuck in a tiny hostel. Pretty much all of the nations south of the equator had already flown home before the ash got too close and were safe at home while they were all stuck together. The rest of them - the UK brothers and Ireland, Ukraine, the Nordics, Liechtenstein, Switzerland, Prussia, the Italies and a couple of other nations- were stuck in a hostel in Stockholm. It wasn't going too well.

Norway sighed, stepping into the hostel and stamping snow off his boots. It was a lot quieter in here now than it was been when he left. Ireland and America were arguing surprisingly quietly in the corner, and Sweden was sneaking up behind Finland. The little Finn was wiping Iceland's brow with a cold cloth, trying to cool him down. Liechtenstein was murmuring something to him and smoothing his hair.

"I'm back." he said monotonously, pulling off his scarf and wrapping it around Russia's pipe – their scarf-stand while they were stuck here.

"Ah, good!" Finland said cheerily, though clearly a little distressed. "He opened his eyes for a moment and tried to speak but then he coughed up more smoke and he passed out," he said quickly and worriedly, pointing at a small smoke-stain on the blanket they were using as a canopy over him. He'd set the smoke alarms in the building off if it wasn't there, Norway reminded himself as he reached to take it off. Liechtenstein pushed his hand away, telling him to stop, before standing up and heading over to Ukraine.

"So, you cook it for 20 minutes on a low heat– oh, privet, Lilli! How is Iceland? You're treating him like a patient in a coma." Ukraine said to her. She had been talking to England about cooking and he was bright red in the face – presumably from embarrassment There was a small packet of tissues next to him for some reason.

"He's... he's okay." Liechtenstein said quietly. Ukraine moved out of her cross-legged position on the floor and sat back normally, pulling the small German girl onto her lap. Liechtenstein leaned onto Ukraine's chest – though being as innocent as she was, she just found it very soft. She gave a small sigh.

"You've been acting nurse haven't you?" Ukraine asked, her nose catching the scent of the disinfectant on Lilli's hands. She blushed a little, and Ukraine prodded her stomach. "What?"

"I- I had to rub ointment onto his chest..." Liechtenstein stammered. Ukraine giggled at how modest the girl was, she was like Japan! Although perhaps not as bad as him.

"Vhy are you embarrassed?" Ukraine asked, a smirk working it's way onto her face. England snickered.

"Be-because, because I l-like Icel-land!" she stuttered almost incomprehensibly.

"That's a little bit obvious, love," England said, absent-mindedly fiddling with a small piece of twisted metal. It looked a little bit like a toy soldier – probably something he made during WWII. Liechtenstein noticed he was still blushing and avoiding eye contact with Ukraine.

"Mr England, why are you blushing?" she asked, patting down a piece of flyaway hair on his head.

"I'm not," he said with a straight face, though it turned even redder. Ukraine looked puzzled and took his face in her hand, tilting it upwards.

"Yes you are!" she giggled. He met her eyes briefly, before turning redder even than Prussia's eyes. "I vonder vhy?" she pondered.

"I-I should probably go, I think America wants me!" he blurted out, accidentally slipping into one of his regional accents, and it was thicker than the family eyebrows. Scotland snickered across the room, before giving a slight cough and looking away. England stood up quickly and made his way over to where America was, but was stopped by Hungary and Japan.

"You're being a tsundere." Japan said seriously.

"What?" The word made no sense to England.

"Allow me to explain..." Hungary said, grinning. A notepad labeled "Doujins" was produced out of nowhere and she began to draw diagrams. England peeked at one of the pages as she flipped past it and turned bright scarlet.

"Wait, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WAS THAT?"

Liechtenstein pulled her hair away from her face, irritated. Iceland wasn't awake yet and there were a few normal humans in the hostel giving them strange looks.

It was beginning to get late and some of the nations with different time zones were beginning to get tired. Japan had gone to sleep a few hours ago and Russia was curled up into a small ball with his head on Ukraine's lap, dozing a little bit. Liechtenstein was fairly tired too, having spent the day taking care of Iceland and chasing after Denmark, who kept trying to get her to say "Rødgrød med fløde" which was extremely difficult and seemed to be a tongue twister. The snow was not particularly thick, but just thick enough for it to be scooped up by America and stuffed down England's shirt. It had been a noisy day and Liechtenstein just wanted to go to bed. However, she had been told to watch over Iceland, a bit like a night shift.

"Hmph." she said, pouting. Lilli was less patient than she had most people believe, and Switzerland wasn't around to scold her. She prodded Iceland hard in the side, scowling. His skin was still abnormally hot, though his hands were cold and rough. She picked up his hand in her own, blowing it to try and keep it warm.

"Skíta..." Iceland groaned, rolling towards her a little. Liechtenstein froze, hoping she hadn't woken him up.

"Ugh, bróðir? Ég meiða allt..." he moaned, violet eyes beginning to flicker a little. He shivered slightly and rolled a little closer to Lilli, trying to get closer to her heat.

"Um... A-Ari?" she mumbled, feeling the eyes of everyone else on her. She poked him gently in the shoulder, shaking him slightly. He opened his eyes blearily, using the edge of Liechtenstein's chair to push himself up little.

Iceland blinked a couple of times, rubbing his eyes and coughing a little. He caught sight of everyone staring at him and he managed to say weakly

"What, were you expecting something?"

* * *

(A/N)

I don't even care how much this chapter sucks, I've had a fuckton of homework. Year Nine sucks.

Rødgrød med fløde = Danish tongue twister. I can't remember what it means xD

Skíta = I think it means shit in Icelandic. Also ever notice that in Iceland's first appearance, in Paint It White, the first ting he says is "oh skít"? That is a prime example of getting shit past the fan :3

He then goes on to break the fourth wall. In his first ever anime appearance. He's one of my favourites for a reason!

The other stuff Iceland says is just him moaning.

AUCH.

Julchen! I hope your arm gets better :3

And to think I planned this AN to be short. Anyway, bye!


	5. Sweden's house & Smoke plumes

"What, were you expecting something?" Iceland said weakly.

There was a beat of silence before Iceland found himself tackled into a hug.  
"Ari, Ariariariyou'reokayyou'reokayyou'renotdyingohgotte gottegotte" Lilli squeaked, slowly melting into a small puddle of squeals and indecipherable rapid German.

"Liechtenstein, calm down!" Iceland wheezed, some soot squeezing it's way out of his lungs. "I'm fine, I'm not dying but I will be if you don't calm down. Shhhh." he mumbled, hugging her back.

Iceland released Lilli somewhat reluctantly and cast a glance around the room. Anxious eyes were turned towards him, as well as some confused ones from the few humans in the hostel who quickly lost interest.

"Erm..." he said. "Good news first, or bad news?"  
There was no reply.

"Ok, well, the good news is that I'm not going to die or choke on any kind of bodily fluid or horrible gas." he said, rather sarcastically. "The bad news is, the volcanic eruption has caused a massive ash plume that's heading straight for Europe and the British Isles which you know, but the real bad news is that it's not going anywhere for a while. America, Japan, you're fucked," Iceland said simply. "The rest of you can likely get trains and ferries down through Europe to get home, or you could if they weren't full of people trying to do just that." Iceland finished.  
There were groans from around the room and a few muttered swear words in various languages.

"How long will it be, then?" asked one of the Mediterranean nations.

"Fuck if I know."

More groans.

"I have s'm better news." offered Sweden from the corner, his gravelly voice startling some people. "I've got a house in Stock'olm not too far from 'ere. 'S got plenty of space f'r all of us." he said. Finland nodded.

"Right! And we can take Ari there to get better!"

"I'm fi-"

"Bullshit!" cried Denmark from the doorway. "Can you handle this?" he called, reaching outside and flinging a handful of snow at Iceland. He spluttered pathetically, before grabbing a pair of shoes and hobbling out the door after the cackling Dane. Italy could've sworn he said "It's on, bitch."

They were silent for a few moments before America cried out, "What the fuck are you waiting for? Francis, Arthur, Wales, and 'kraine, you're on my team. Berwald, Tino, Nor, you go with Ari and Den, Germans with Hungary, and Japan, Ireland, Italies and Scotland are the last team. 10 minutes to construct defences and build ammo, let's go go go!" he hollered. The nations rushed out the door, jackets in hand and separated into their teams.

* * *

"Ok, here's the plan of attack," Alfred whispered, drawing with a stick in the thickening snow. "We launch our missiles at Japan's team first. We'll have to watch for Scotland because he's got a good throw, but the rest are shit and Ireland's probably dazed from being whacked in the face with Wales' mythology book. Thank you, Dafydd, moving on. We take them out, then we move on to the Germans, who are dangerous be-"

"Fuck that!" Arthur cut him off.

"Just dodge the Nordics. Prussia and Hungary will be too busy snogging, Switzerland will be shielding Liechtenstein from the _obviously_ pornographic scenes, so the only one left is Germany and he can't abide the cold. They're useless unless by chance they are not snogging. It's the Nordics you have to watch." Dafydd said, England nodding in agreement.

"Quoi? They can't be that good." France said.

"You're such a fuckbrain, Francis. We are fighting against the guy who's name is literally Ice and the four other guys who have lived in the snow for most of their lives." Arthur said with a deadpan, receiving a high five from Ukraine next to him.

"Fuck it, just build snowballs!"

-  
"Do we really need a plan of attack?" grumbled Germany. "It's a snowball fight."

"Yes!" Prussia hissed. "This is crucial! If you lose, your manhood will be forever gone!" he said. Germany scowled. Everyone had seen him baking and of course, the only apron he could find was pink and flowery.  
Not like his own apron was much different.  
When he stopped glowering at the ground, Prussia was running through the strategy.

"Ok, so Hungary, you deflect snowballs with the pan. Everyone knows the rules; get hit three times and you're out. Luddy, you can make big snowballs or something, you're not throwing anything. God your aim is shi- fuck, let go of the hair! Ok, ok. Liech, you do what you want and me and Swiss can throw. Alles gut?"

"Scheiß ja."

-  
The Nordics were so fucking sorted. This was in the bag. Hell fucking yes.

"Ok!" Denmark bellowed, several nations jumping.

"On the count of three, the war begins!"

"One..." he said.

"Two..."

"THREE!" he squawked. Immediately, snowballs came flying from every direction. International cursing could be heard as snowballs hit their mark and defences were smashed down by Finland's little ice balls.  
As predicted, with the sluggish Ireland and the two useless flailing Italians, Japan's team was by far the worst. Scotland did indeed have a good throw and he used it to great effect, almost taking out France.  
France's team itself wasn't bad, with Ukraine and France working together to make as many snowballs as possible. England, America and Wales would throw them.

The Nordics were definitely the best and there was no question who would win. Finland crushed his snowballs into ice and threw them hard to cause pain, and while the targets were distracted with their sore limb, Iceland and Denmark took them out with two snowballs. Sweden smashed defences with his huge half snowmen and Norway made more ammo. They batted away the snowballs with their hands, like a cold game of volleyball.

By the end of it, only the Nordics and Hungary were left.

"Do you surrender?" yelled Denmark

"Never!" she cried.

"Nordic Five, attack!" he shouted, and at those words five huge balls of compacted snow hurtled towards the woman across from him. Three seconds later she was buried.

"Well that was interesting." Prussia said bluntly. The pile of snow began to shuffle across the ground and towards the hostel, and the rest of the nations followed suit.

* * *

"Ok, 's ev'ryone packed up now?" Sweden said from the corner. "It's a b't of a walk fr'm 'ere to m'house so I hope you're all up t' it." he said, hoisting his own bag onto his shoulder. He turned to check behind him. Everyone was packed up and ready to go, with the exception of Alfred, who, in all fairness, did have to carry Iceland over there. He was still pretty weak from all the eruptions and the general coughing-up-blood-smoke-and-fever thing that came with have dozens of active volcanoes.

"Ok one second! Just one more I swear!" America muttered for the third time. "Aaaand done!" he cried triumphantly, tossing his bag to Germany, who had volunteered to carry it. He hoisted Iceland onto his broad back, wincing at how hot he was, and tramped out the door.

"Right then, which way is it?" Romano asked, twiddling a lock of his hair. "It's cold as..." he glanced at Liechtenstein. "heck, out here. Yeah, heck." England snickered.

"This way." he said, pointing down the alley Sweden was heading down. The pack of nations began to follow, chatting (bickering) with each other loudly, gaining more than a few stares from various tourists and citizens alike.

"You know, for a tiny guy he sure is heavy," America grunted, shifting Iceland on his back. The pale-haired boy was fast asleep on his back, dressed in only a thin t-shirt and puffin-patterned pyjamas to avoid overheating. Even outside in three inches of snow he was sweating, which caused Norway to worry a lot and of course, be teased by Denmark. Liechtenstein was anxious too but nobody dared tease her about fancying Iceland because Switzerland was simply so trigger-happy. Even if he didn't have a gun on him right now.

However, Francis was all set to tease England about his crush.

"Aaangleteeerre!" he sang. England groaned.

"If you're asking me to carry your bag again I swear I'm going to-"

"Non, non, Arthur-" England winced at the mangling of his human name "I am simply coming to tease you about-"

"I fucking knew it."

"Ho, but you would like to talk about it, oui? Everyone does!" France said, slinging an arm around England's skinny shoulders dramatically, gesturing wildly.

"You're worse than Alfred."

"I'm right though."

"...Yes." Arthur scowled.

"Ask them." France said, prodding the grumpy Briton's bony ribs. "Dieu, you're skinny."

"Shut your face."

"Non."

"Yes."

"Non."

"I have four brothers and I grew up with you, you know I can do this all day."  
"Non."

"Oui-_ fuck!_"

"Hahahaha!"

* * *

"Fuck me with a spanner, are we there yet? You said it'd be a short walk!" grumbled Scotland. "The air stinks like shit out here."

"I can't smell anything, the hell are you talking about?" America asked, puzzled.

"Mmm." came a low mumble.

"English? Or Swedish? Perhaps fucking_ Lithuanian_? I'd like a coherent sentence, thank you!" Scotland snapped.

"Calm yer tits, Scottie, yes, we're here!" Ireland quipped, pointing ahead. "Look!" he said, pointing ahead.

Ahead of them a large, snow-coated house stood proudly against the darkening sky. It had to have at least seven bedrooms, that was for sure. A metal swing stood in the garden and a small pen of chickens flapped anxiously at the party of nations. A rocking chair swung lazily in the wind as it rested on the porch. Polished windows glittered in the sun, brightly coloured curtains obscuring the rooms inside.

"Sweden! Finland! You're back!" cried a young, Essex-accented voice from the attic window. Before anyone (bar England, Sweden and Finland) could identify the speaker, the window slammed shut. They made their way up to the door and it swung open in front of them.

"Wow, you brought company." Sealand said, his face a deadpan but his eyes excited. "Come in then!" he said after a brief pause, gesturing wildly to the hallway.

The nations filed in, one by one. Sealand received many hair rufflings and cuddles as they all poured in. _I'm twelve physical years old_, he grumbled to himself. _I am not cute. _But hey, free sweets.

"Christ in a sidecar, how many are there?!" Peter exclaimed, staring up at Finland.

"Let me see..." he said, counting on his fingers. "Nordics, Germans minus Austria, Italy, South Italy... Japan, Hungary, America, all the British guys plus Ireland, and... Ukraine, I believe. So nineteen in all!" he replied cheerfully. Sealand looked a little queasy.

" Do we have enough room for nineteen pissy nations?" he asked.

"Language. And yes, of course!" he replied. "The girls can share a room, as can the Germans, the UK brothers and Ireland, and-"

"Bored now." Sealand giggled, walking off to socialise. On the internet.  
Of course.

In the living room, people were deciding who would purchase and cook food for everyone each night they were here (The UK brothers being excluded due to their inventions of laver bread, haggis and black pudding.) So far it seemed to be decided that there was to be no fast food, except perhaps fish and chips. Cake would be baked each two days and once a fortnight was "do what you want" night. This, of course, was boring Prussia to tears.

"Yo, Sea." he said. "What are you doing?" he asked, throwing a pale arm around the nearly-nation's shoulders and bending down to look at his screen. "Looks pretty boring."  
"It is."  
"Why are you doing it?" he asked.  
"Nothing else to do."  
"Bullshit!" Prussia exclaimed loudly. He quickly covered his mouth. "Fuck, sorry, but really. You have a huge kitchen, a box of crayons, and like sechs-hundert Länder hier!" he said, arms flailing as he spoke.

"I guess I could make a cake..." Peter murmured thoughtfully.

"Now hold one, aren't you practically English? Do you think that's a good idea?" Prussia asked cautiously, stepping back.

"If I'm honest, England and his brothers aren't bad at baking." Sealand said truthfully.

"Ok, I'm putting this to the test. ENGLAND!" he hollered. "Get your ass to the kitchen, Sea has a hypothesis here!" Prussia beckoned to him, and a short blonde man rounded the corner. French cursing could be heard and a few nations followed him to Prussia to see what was going on.

"Hypothesis is an awfully long word from such a dreadfully tiny brain." Arthur snickered, a smirk edging its way onto his lips. "What do you want? I thought you were scared of my food? Last time you ate it you went into a short coma."

"Sea here says you and your brothers actually have the ability to make edible confectioneries. Discuss." the albino said, motioning to the small cluster behind him.

"'course we can!" Wales cried. "We can prove it! In't that right, Scottie?"

"You bet your albino ass. How about we do it now?" agreed Scotland.

"Oh dear Lord..." England murmured. "Okay, what are we doing?"

"Spotted Dick!"

"What the_** fuck.**_" America groaned.

* * *

"Ok, this is bad." Alfred said through a mouthful of Spotted Dick and custard.

"You ate half the pudding you deliberately irritating dunderfuck."

"Shut up, you bitch."

"Whore."

"Shitstain."

"What's even going on in here..." a groggy voice came from the doorway. Heads snapped around, grins spreading on faces.

"He lives!" cried Denmark. Iceland gave a weak glare and made his way to the window seat. He flopped down and pushed the window open, hanging a leg out of it lazily.

"It was hot in my room and the window got jammed." he groaned, rubbing sweat from his eyes. His brow glistened with beads of sweat, and small particles of black soot dusted the front of his shirt. He grabbed a chunk of snow from the window, balancing it on his forehead and closing his eyes.

Cold, ice cold water began to drip from the snow and down his face, and Iceland breathed a sigh of relief. He could feel ten pairs of eyes watching him closely, but he had reached the point where he didn't care. He was melting. _Melting. _

He exhaled a small puff of ash and black smoke, scowling a little and casting his violet eyes upon one of them.

"Got an eyeful?" he snapped. They turned away sharply, going back to their various business.

He moaned pitifully. Every bone in his body ached and his skin blazed with heat despite the snow melting on his face. His usually pale skin was flushed pink and his lovely white fringe was darkened with soot.  
"Fuck volcanoes..." he mumbled to himself, rubbing at a sore spot on his chest. He pulled his shirt off, tossing it out the window with a loud curse, and allowed himself to roll off the windowsill and into a snow bank with a soft thump.

"Dramatic." commented Denmark, staring after him.

"Fuck you, I'd like to see you coping with that shit." Romano said.

"Wha-"

"Pompeii, cumslut."  
"Ah." he mumbled, and shut his mouth.

All was silent for at least half an hour, save for the buzzing of the T.V in the background and the sound of Romano and France playing Go Fish until Scotland sniffed the air.

"Does anyone smell that?" he asked.

"Smell what?"

"The smoke." Scotland said. "Doesn't anyone else smell it? I've smelt it since we were in the hostel,"

"I can, just." England and Ireland said together. They stared around the room waiting for a response, but were met with a room of bewildered faces.

"Really? Can nobod-" Scott began, before pulling a strange face and clutching his chest.

"Alba?" Wales said, concern in his voice. "Scottie? Scot, you're scaring me." he said, dark green eyes widening.

At that moment, Scotland started to cough. He coughed again and again, pulling out a white handkerchief and hacking into it for a good five minutes. When he finally stopped, a small cloud of black smoke rose from the hanky and soot was smudged around his face.

"Iceland, where did you say the ash plume was blowing again?" he croaked. England's heart dropped.

* * *

**A/N: Yay cliffhanger to motivate me to continue writing**

**I'm not even going to****_ try_**** and formulate an excuse for not updating for like 300 years.**

**So hi, I'm back. This is really just full of bullshit because I wanted to write. A lot. So I did, plus I felt the need to make a decently long chapter to try and compensate for God knows how long of being off the face of the Earth.**

**Some things you should know:**  
**Ash plume did indeed blow down through the British Isles**  
**English puddings are brilliant  
All Sweden's furniture is from Ikea  
This could be better  
Iceland is lying shirtless outside right now  
Yes I will update soon**

**You can say thanks to Julchen M Liddel (Hatsu Yukiya) and KokoLolo for making me update. They were actually very happy look at what the two lovelies said:**

Me: guys im doing it  
im WRITING  
the volcano thing

Julchen: YAY

Lolo: CAN YOU HEAR THE ANGELS SING

Me: omg you guys

Julchen: SINGING THE SONG OF FUCKING UPDATES  
IT IS THE MUSIC OF THE PEOPLE WHO NOT BE FORCED TO WAIT

Lolo: YEAHHHH!

Julchen: *death metal scream*

Lolo: FFSDFVYHNKNOP

**I love them. Ok bye no,w please rate and review thank you all.**


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